


Picky

by SmolPidge



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (or as slow as a one-shot can get lol), Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Crimson Flower Route, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary, Slow Burn, lots and lots of food involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26290756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolPidge/pseuds/SmolPidge
Summary: After giving each other contradicting pieces of advice over dinner, Hubert and Ingrid become entangled in a rivalry meant to prove whose advise is actually effective. As it turns out, advice given by two capable people work wonders.orSet over the course of many meals, how Ingrid comes to join the Empire and grow attached to their resident emo boy, while Hubert learns to get over his pickiness.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43
Collections: 2020 Ultra Rarepair Big Bang





	Picky

**Author's Note:**

> After ages (and I mean ages) of working on this, my piece for the FE3H ultra rarepair big bang on Twitter is complete! I didn't expect this prompt to be chosen, but I'm so glad it did. I am now all aboard the Hubert/Ingrid train!
> 
> For this bang, I had the pleasure of working with @moonstruckmoron on Twitter! They have a piece for this fic on their Twitter (which I'll link to once it's up). 
> 
> For anyone reading this, welcome to rarepair hell. Enjoy!

Sylvain would apologize in the morning. He would claim he’d turned a new leaf, learned the error of his ways, and promise it wouldn’t happen again. Ingrid knew better than to believe him; it would most certainly happen again. He’d be back to his usual shenanigans by next week, if not sooner. When he did, she’d run after him, fixing whatever mess he’d gotten himself into that time. She knew all this, and she accepted it just as quickly. Still, the thought of the inevitable made her insides squirm. 

Annette waved to her from the table where she and the rest of her housemates sat in the dining hall. Sylvain sat beside her, chatting up Ashe. Ingrid groaned. 

If she sat down with the rest of her housemates, Mercedes would ask her why she was angry. Annette would coax the truth out of her, after which Dimitri would chastise Sylvain, which would only serve to provoke Felix into some argument or another. Dedue would sit in silence as always, only intervening when Ashe’s attempts at restraining Felix failed. Amongst it all, Ingrid would sit there, her peaceful meal ruined and her mood worse than it had been when she’d first arrived. She had sat through the same situation a dozen times already. No matter what strategies she’d employed to hide her rage (an endless stream of food, a hand on her cheek, even makeup once), Mercedes would always catch on, dooming her to another repeat.

After a long day of heavy training and apologizing on Sylvain’s behalf, another ordeal was the last thing she needed. Though Felix would argue otherwise, Ingrid wasn’t a masochist. At times like these, Dorothea would be her saving grace, but her friend was nowhere to be found. Though the idea of sitting alone didn’t bother her, it would look too suspicious. Mercedes and Annette would be upon her within seconds, and all of her efforts would have been in vain. 

Ingrid’s eyes desperately swept the dining hall. Familiar faces littered the room, but none of them she could consider friendly. Maybe if she hadn’t been so pushy towards Bernadetta, the girl wouldn’t have darted away the moment they made eye contact.

The only person who didn’t glare back was Hubert, who took a whole table to himself. He gingerly picked at his food, constantly dipping his fork into his plate, only to pull pieces of the food away with his fingers. Ingrid couldn’t boast any relationship with Edelgard’s right-hand man, but his reputation had certainly kept her from insisting on one. However, looking at him playing with his food gave her the impression he wouldn’t bite. 

Mind made up, she shook her head at Annette and approached his table. 

“Do you need anything?” he asked as she stopped directly opposite him.

“Good evening, Hubert.” Though Hubert skipped the formalities, Ingrid wouldn’t. “I just thought we could eat together.”

Hubert raised an eyebrow. “Why is that?”

“Because you’re eating alone.”

“So?”

“Don’t you normally eat with Edelgard?” Ingrid hardly ever saw Hubert separated from Edelgard’s hip. His solitude seemed _wrong_ somehow. 

“She had other business to attend to, so she ate earlier,” he explained. 

“That’s no reason to eat alone, though. What about your other housemates?” 

“The same could be said of you.” Hubert glared at her. He didn’t blink once. “Don’t _you_ normally eat with _your_ housemates?” 

Ingrid cursed herself. Maybe she should’ve known better than to provoke him when she was the one asking for a favor. “I- I just thought you’d like the company.”

“Right.” Hubert broke eye contact and returned to his food. Waving a hand he added, “Well, I’m not in need of any, so you can be on your way.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Ingrid set down her food on the table and hopped onto the bench. She’d already come too far to be led astray now. 

Hubert only muttered something under his breath, clearly not pleased, but not willing to force her out either. 

For a while, they ate in silence. Or rather, Ingrid ate. Hubert didn’t take a single bite, instead continuing to pick and choose what he deemed worthy off his plate. It made Ingrid want to take his food and down it all in one go, but she resisted the urge. 

“Do you not like berries?” she asked, noticing a pattern in his pickiness. He’d been rubbing his fish against the plate for an entire minute now, wiping off the berry sauce in the process. The plate would be permanently stained red by the time he finished. 

“No,” Hubert answered flatly. 

“Then why’d you choose that dish?” 

“Just because your friends won’t listen to you doesn’t mean I should.” 

Ingrid stopped chewing for a moment. “What did you just say?” 

Hubert crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s why you’re really here, right?”

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Hubert agreed. “But I’d claim it doesn’t concern you enough.”

Ingrid frowned. “How so?”

“Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Hubert returned to his food. 

Ingrid slapped a hand on the table. “No! Tell me!”

Hubert rolled his eyes, but obliged her. “I don’t know what delusions you have, but you can’t change people through sheer willpower alone.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You put in a serious amount of effort for friends who seemingly care very little.” 

“They’re my friends! Isn’t it natural for me to help them?”

“Have they ever asked you for help?” he asked. “Have they ever thanked you for it?”

“On occasion.” Ingrid took an angry bite of her fish. What did Hubert know? She’d known Felix and Sylvain for years. She knew better than anyone why they acted the way they did. Of course it annoyed her, but it could hardly be helped. She’d accepted it all already. 

Hubert shrugged. “Just something to consider.”

Ingrid scoffed. “You know, you were right. You shouldn’t have said anything.” 

Ingrid quickly gobbled up her remaining food and left Hubert behind to pick at his fish. Whether eating with him had been a better alternative to dining with her housemates would have to be determined once she’d calmed down. It was only then that she realized she could have at least asked for his leftovers. 

* * *

If it weren’t for his messy black hair and his sharp cheekbones, Ingrid wouldn’t have been able to identify the sulking individual in the dining hall as Hubert. The Hubert she knew wouldn’t have ever been caught slouching or with a ruffled collar, but the one before her eyes bore both with no issue. 

“Something happen to Hubert?” Ingrid asked Dorothea as they headed over to the Blue Lions table. 

Dorothea nodded. “My guess is he’s had a fight with Edie. They haven’t been getting along since this morning.” 

“Really now…” 

Ingrid liked to think of herself as an honorable and noble knight. An honorable and noble knight probably wouldn’t stoop so low as to kick someone at their lowest point, even if that someone had been a rude prick. Providing tough, but necessary advice to a colleague in need, though? That would surely be deemed knightly. 

“I’m going to go talk to him,” she decided aloud. 

“Why bother?” Dorothea looped her arm around Ingrid’s and tried to steer her away. “After the awful things he said last time, I didn’t think you’d ever want anything to do with him.”

Ingrid slid her arm away. “I’ll be no better than he is if I just leave him like that.” 

“Oh, I get it.” Dorothea narrowed her eyes and flashed a mischievous grin. She struck her hip against Ingrid’s, shoving her forward an inch or two. “In that case, good luck. Give him a piece of your mind!”

Dorothea’s encouragement embedded Ingrid’s steps with confidence. She didn’t wait for Hubert to approve before she took a seat at his table. 

“Sitting alone again, I see?” she asked, already digging into her meal. 

Hubert didn’t respond, only huffed and continued dragging his spoon around the edge of his bowl. As far as Ingrid could tell, the soup inside hadn’t yet been touched. 

“Edelgard’s here, right? Why not sit with her?” Ingrid had no intentions of letting him off easy, not after what he’d said last time.

Hubert sighed. “We had a sort of… _disagreement_ last night.” 

“Oh, I see. So just blowing off some steam then?” 

“Precisely!” Hubert replied so enthusiastically his spoon flew from his grasp and fumbled to the floor. “It’s only a matter of time before we move on from this. Nothing to worry about.” 

“You don’t seem so convinced.” The bags under his eyes and his trembling shoulders were only the tip of the iceberg. 

Hubert picked up his spoon and dropped it onto the table. “It’ll be fine, I assure you.”

“You know, this sort of thing is only natural,” Ingrid pressed. 

“I suppose if anyone would know, it would be you.” 

Ingrid resisted the urge to spit her food in his face. “Sometimes even the best of friends are bound to clash heads every now and again.”

“Yes, _now and again.”_

“Do you want me to help or not?”

“I never asked you to. I feel like we’ve been over this exact thing before.” Hubert shot her a glare from across the table. Unfortunately for him, the rest of him exuded anything but intimidation.

To leave now would have been a victory for Hubert, so Ingrid pushed one more time. “So that’s a no?”

“Fine,” he relented. 

Pleased with herself, Ingrid continued. “I won’t ask you what happened, but do you at least know who was at fault?”

“I’d argue we were both at fault.”

Ingrid had heard the same excuse from Felix too many times to believe him. “So it was you.”

Hubert’s head vaguely shifted up and down. Ingrid supposed this was as close to a nod as he was going to give. 

“That’s easy then! Can’t you just apologize?” 

Hubert curled his lip. Was that supposed to be a pout?

Ingrid swallowed the disgust rising in her throat. “So that’s the problem then? You won’t apologize?” 

“Lady Edelgard fails to understand I’m merely making suggestions for her own good.”

“And who’s to say it really _is_ for her own good?”

“It certainly is.”

Ingrid stole a glance in Edelgard’s direction. The Adrestian princess paid them no mind, busy conversing with Linhardt and Petra. 

“Look at her; she doesn’t even care,” said Hubert. 

In his stupor, he dipped his finger into his soup and brought it to his lips. The ensuing coughing and hacking attracted everyone’s focus, even Edelgard’s. Though her face expressed concern, she returned to her own conversation shortly thereafter. 

“She’s mad; of course she’s going to give you the cold shoulder,” Ingrid assured him once Hubert’s coughing died down. “Why not just talk to her? I’m sure if you did, your suffering would be over much quicker. Once you’ve identified the problem, you can both work together to avoid making the same mistakes.”

Hubert groaned. “Is it really that simple?”

“Of course!” 

Hubert grew silent. She didn’t know whether she had properly gotten through to him, but at least he’d listened. While he thought it over, she figured she might as well ask for her payment. 

“Are you going to eat that?” she asked, pointing at his soup. 

Hubert rolled his eyes and pushed the bowl towards her. 

Greedy fingers brought the food closer to her. Between mouthfuls she added, “You really shouldn’t be so hung up on this sort of thing, Hubert. Disagreements only strengthen friendships, you know.”

“Is that what you’ve told yourself?” 

“Excuse me?”

“You give surprisingly good advice for someone who doesn’t follow it herself.”

“How so?”

Hubert adjusted the collar on his uniform. “If the same arguments end in the same results time and time again, how many times will it take before you admit you’re being naive?” 

_“Naive?”_

Hubert nodded. “Do fights and apologies mean anything if nothing changes? I haven’t even known you a year, and yet the amount of times I’ve seen you arguing with Fraldarius alone is extraordinary.”

Ingrid clenched her fists under the table. “I know Felix is a little abrasive, but he’s my friend! The tragedy of Duscur really did a number on him…” 

“I’m sure it did, yet you shouldn’t be using that fact to shield him from criticism. You can’t recycle the same excuses forever.” 

“They’re not excuses!” Ingrid felt the demure (and frankly pathetic) Hubert whom she’d been speaking to gradually fade away. This one wasn’t half as pleasant. 

“I understand it’s not easy to admit your friend is a jerk, but it has to happen sometime.”

“Oh, and you’re so much better?”

“I, for one, at least know when to say thanks.” Hubert stood and gave a small bow. “So thanks.” 

Ingrid’s blood boiled as he left in Edelgard’s direction. By the time she rejoined Dorothea, who’d been talking Felix’s ear off, her face could have been confused for a tomato. 

“I take it things with Hubie didn’t end well?” she asked. 

“You could say that.” 

The next morning, Edelgard and Hubert were back to their old selves. The knightly part of Ingrid felt proud that her advice had inspired positive results. The rest of her hoped Hubert would trip on a squirrel and hit his head against a rock. 

* * *

Ingrid sensed a pattern forming. The blame probably laid with her, but she was too angry to indulge in the thought any further than that simple acknowledgement. Maybe she would have if Hubert’s smug face would leave her alone. 

“Who was it this time?” he asked. 

“I’m eating alone today, actually.” Ingrid didn’t bother cleaning the crumbs spraying over the table as she chewed. 

Hubert took a seat. “You’ve dug your own grave, Ingrid. You can’t expect me to leave after acting the way you have.” 

Ingrid grumbled under her breath. 

Hubert set his plate in front of her. 

Ingrid conceded. “Fine.” She stabbed his food with her fork and chowed down. 

“So?” Hubert asked. 

“So what?”

“Who was it this time?” Hubert repeated. 

“I don’t see why I should tell you anything.”

“Well, someone once gave me some good advice about disagreements between friends. I only thought I should return the favor.”

Ingrid doubted his intentions, but figured she wouldn’t be able to get him out of her hair otherwise. Besides, it wasn’t like she’d been trying hard to keep it a secret anyway. She could practically hear Annette whispering about her to the other Lions from a mile away. 

“Dimitri,” she said. 

“Oh? That’s new.”

“You’re telling me…”

“And the one at fault?”

“Definitely him.”

“You sure?”

_Are you really trying to turn his needless death into an ideal to uphold? Gah, you and he are so alike._

“Without a doubt,” she replied. 

Hubert closed his eyes and shrugged. “In that case I’m out of ideas.” 

Ingrid would have welcomed the end of the conversation, but her curiosity got the better of her. Someone as thorough as Hubert couldn’t possibly leave it at that. 

“What, you’ve never been slighted?” Ingrid would have assumed he’d been in his fair share of disagreements. If one conversation was all it took to tempt her into throwing punches, she couldn’t imagine the altercations he’d had with people with less restraint. 

“Oh, plenty of times.”

“And how did those instances end up resolving?”

“Simple, really.” Hubert spun his fork between his fingers. “They didn’t.”

“So what? You’ve got dozens of unresolved conflicts mulling about?”

“Why should they be mulling about? I don’t even remember what most of them were anymore.”

“So forgive and forget?” Ingrid had been subscribed to the same ideal for years now. So far, she’d only really succeeded at fulfilling the first half of the phrase. 

“Forget, surely,” Hubert replied. “Forgive, not so much.”

“How does that solve anything?” 

“It seems you fail to understand me, so I’ll make it clear.” Hubert looked her dead in the eye. “I am no longer associated with any of those individuals.” 

Ingrid blinked. “Not one?”

“No.”

“Didn’t you care for any of them?”

“Perhaps. But some slights are not easily forgiven, and I lack the time and energy to fix relationships with people who ultimately did not care enough.”

“That’s…” Ingrid couldn’t bear the idea of cutting off that many people. “Don’t you ever get lonely?” 

He shook his head. “I thought we were talking about you, though?”

Ingrid welcomed the change in subject, even if the subject was her. “Right.” 

“Care to explain what happened?”

“I fear talking about it will only put me in a worse mood.” Even if she did, Ingrid doubted Hubert would understand. He hadn’t known Glenn like she had. Based on her prior conversations with Hubert, she feared that telling him would only push him to side with Dimitri, and that was something she definitely wouldn’t handle well. 

“I see…” Hubert’s voice faded away. 

For a moment the two sat in silence, only broken every once in a while by Ingrid’s loud chewing. Though Ingrid didn’t consider Hubert as much of a talker, she wouldn’t ever say he lacked things to say. This was a first. 

“Tell me, do you believe in Dimitri?” Hubert broke the silence. 

The question startled Ingrid. “He’s my friend.” 

“But do you share his convictions?”

Ingrid huffed. “Should that matter?”

“I’d say so.” 

“What about you and Edelgard? I’ve admittedly only heard rumors, but weren’t you assigned to stay by her side? A retainer of sorts?” Rumors had never been of much interest to Ingrid, but with Sylvain and Dorothea as friends, it had been impossible to ignore them entirely. 

“That is correct.”

“Then it doesn’t really matter whether or not you agree with her, right?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Hubert laughed as if the notion itself was preposterous. 

“You wouldn’t?”

“While it is true that my duty has always been to protect and support Lady Edelgard, I could have easily rid myself of such a responsibility if I wanted to,” Hubert insisted. “I’ve only stayed by her this long because I wholeheartedly believe in her and the path she has chosen to take.”

“So you’re telling me you chose this path?”

“Of course.” Hubert leaned his chin against his arm, as if to toy with her. “Did you not?”

Ingrid straightened her back and crossed her arms. “My duty as a knight is to protect my kingdom. As heir to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, Dimitri is naturally my destined liege. I didn’t think I needed anything else.”

“Alright, then. Tell me.” Hubert smirked. “Do you know what his plans for the kingdom are?”

Ingrid blanked for a moment. Dimitri had never been very vocal about his plans for his eventual rule. His efforts had always been on improving himself. The key to a strong kingdom was a strong ruler, after all. 

“I know he wants to improve relations with Duscur,” she answered after some careful thought. 

“You don’t strike me as the type to support that.”

“Of course I want to make things better for everyone!” Ingrid defended herself. Granted, his words had rung true, to a certain extent. She couldn’t just throw the grief that incident had caused under the rug. Dimitri had lost his parents, Felix his brother, she her fiance. It wasn’t something she could easily get over. “It’s… complicated.” 

“I understand you lost much during the Tragedy of Duscur. It’s only natural you’d harbor some resentment. Though I can’t imagine openly opposing such a cause, I can gather it’s harder for you to accept than most.” 

Ingrid didn’t reply. How had Hubert known all that? She couldn’t imagine him making conversation with Felix, Sylvain, or Dimitri, and she wasn’t one to run her mouth about personal matters either (excluding this one instance). If he knew this much, what else did he know?

“And yet, you’d happily lay down your life if it meant protecting him and his aspirations, correct?” Hubert cut off her train of thought. 

Ingrid answered right away. “Yes.”

“It’s true that a knight serves their ward until the bitter end, but I would have thought that they’d at least choose a ward they support. Is it really knightly of one to back someone who they do not believe in? Have you ever considered what _you_ stand for?”

In fact, Ingrid had not. The knights in the novels and tales she read never had a reason to fight that wasn’t shared with their master. As far as she was concerned, her reason _was_ her master. 

“You must have something you wish to fight for other than your king,” Hubert pressed when she failed to comment.

Ingrid thought. If not to protect her liege, then what other reason did she have to fight? “Does it have to be a person?”

“No. Anything.”

“In that case…” Ingrid frightened herself by the speed at which she’d come up with an answer. “Crests.”

“Crests?”

“It’s because of mine that I may never become a knight in the first place,” she explained. “But I’m guessing you already knew that? You seem to know a lot about me, after all.” 

“I may have overheard as such, at some point… You’re not receiving any special treatment, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Ingrid’s silent accusation bothered him not, it seemed. 

“Ah. Well that eases all my worries, huh?”

Hubert paused, then smiled. “You know, I think you and Edelgard have a lot in common.”

“What, you spy on her too?”

Hubert pursed his lips. “Don’t be ridiculous. I only meant that I’m sure you would come to support her ideals, if you were only willing to hear them out.” 

“So what? You expect me to just walk up to her and start chatting?” she asked. “Wouldn’t it be weird for me to approach her now?”

“It wouldn’t, but if you really insist on it, why not join our class?” 

Ingrid’s eyes widened. “The Black Eagles? I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“I belong in the Blue Lions house.”

“You say that as if you’d be committing high treason.”

“What reason would I have to switch anyway?” Ingrid fished for excuses. Not that she needed them. 

“Our Professor has certainly made a name for themselves. I’m sure both they and Edelgard have plenty to teach you. Lysithea has recently transferred in from the Golden Deer house for that same reason.”

“She has?” Though Ingrid knew class changes were possible, she’d never seen one actually take place. 

“She claims having Professor Byleth as a teacher will benefit her magical studies Considering her conversations with Edelgard, however, I’m certain she has at least one ulterior motive.” 

Ingrid lowered her voice. “Still, I do like my house.”

“It’s merely a suggestion.” Hubert stood. “ Either way, I wish you well in your spat with the prince.” 

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Ingrid ruminated on Hubert’s _suggestion_ for a bit once he’d left. Considering Hubert’s admiration for Edelgard, being compared to her must have been a genuine compliment. Then again, maybe it had all been the setup for an elaborate joke at her expense. Was Hubert one to plan these sorts of things out? She’d have to ask Dorothea later. 

Ingrid took another bite of her food. She hummed in delight as the pheasant in her mouth made contact with her tongue. As long as Hubert kept offering her food, she supposed she wouldn’t mind if he one day returned to deliver the punchline. 

* * *

Parties had never been of much interest to Ingrid. At such events, she’d normally be given a fancy gown she could barely move in, which fared poorly with the expectation that she’d dance all night. She’d ditched many a party back in the day with Sylvain, but he’d since grown a certain fondness for them she couldn’t reciprocate. 

At least at the monastery ball, all students were required to wear their uniforms. Dorothea and Annette had both ached over the decision, but Ingrid couldn’t have been happier. Her mood only improved as she caught sight of the snack table. While everyone else occupied themselves on the dance floor, she was free to enjoy all the snacks the monastery had to offer. 

“Why does it not surprise me to find you here?” 

Ingrid looked up from her pastry to see Hubert. Though most students had applied makeup or added accessories to their uniform for the special occasion, he had done no such thing. If anything, the bottom of his pants sagged lower than they usually did. He held out a glass of punch to her. 

Ingrid narrowed her eyes. “Do you need anything?”

“I didn’t peg you as the distrustful type.” 

“Answer the question.”

“I’m just curious.”

Ingrid accepted his punch. “About my fight with Dimitri?”

“Exactly that. Any progress?” 

Ingrid shook her head. “He has yet to apologize.”

“Do you think he will?” 

Ingrid searched for Dimitri among the sea of dancing students. She caught sight of a wisp of his blond hair before it disappeared once more. “I don’t know.”

“You could always do things my way,” Hubert suggested. 

“ _Your way,_ frankly, is a little too extreme for my tastes.” 

“So you still desire to be friends with the prince?”

“Of course! We’ve been friends forever.”

“Is that why you’re so reluctant to give him and the others up?”

Ingrid sighed. She set down her cupcake on the table, as it became obvious to her she wouldn’t be able to enjoy it for a while. “Why are you so intent on having me break off my friendships?”  
“Because it’s obvious to me these friendships no longer benefit you.” 

“Don’t all the old memories mean nothing?”

“That’s all in the past.”

“But those times are precious to me. Don’t you have any memories like that?” Regardless of how many fights they’d had over the years, she wouldn’t trade her childhood alongside Felix, Sylvain, and Dimitri for the world. After the tragedy, it had been those fond memories that had helped her heal and move past it. 

Hubert shrugged. “Some, I suppose.”

“And you’re just willing to let it all go?”

“If it is for the best.” 

Ingrid frowned. “Frankly, I think you should try harder.” 

“Funny, I could say the same thing.” 

“I’ll try harder to criticize my friendships the day you try harder to maintain yours.”

Hubert raised an eyebrow. “What, is this a challenge now?”

Ingrid hadn’t meant it that way, but she didn’t see the point in denying it now. It wasn’t as if Hubert would take it seriously anyway. “If that’s what it takes for you to accept my help, then yes.” 

“I don’t remember ever asking for your help,” Hubert pointed out, “but I’ll accept your challenge regardless.”

“You’re strange, Hubert.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to tell me that.” 

Hubert clinked his glass with hers and downed his drink in one swig. Was this the first time she had ever seen him consume something so enthusiastically? She had even begun to think the man got by on insults alone. 

“Have you given my proposal any thought, by the way?” he asked, wiping his mouth with his collar. It was a surprisingly crass act, coming from him. She would have thought him to be the kind of person who carried handkerchiefs in their pocket at all times. 

“Some,” Ingrid lied. In all honesty, she’d discarded the idea altogether. “Why do you care so much?” 

“The same reason I keep speaking to you. You’re interesting.”

“Why do I get the feeling that’s an insult?”

“It isn’t. I’m not as evil as you give me credit for, you know.” 

It would take more than that for Ingrid to believe him. “Interesting how then?”

“I just find it odd how you can preach one thing and do another. How you constantly settle for less but demand more of others. In my book, _you’re_ the strange one.”

“Was that supposed to reassure me?”

“Take it how you will.” Hubert set his glass down on the table. “Regardless, it’s why _I’m_ going to end up succeeding in your little challenge, and _you_ aren’t.” 

“Hubert!” Edelgard emerged from the throng of dancing students. “I wondered where you had run off to.”

Ingrid looked away. It had taken her years to get used to Dimitri’s royal status. To be in the presence of another made her uncomfortable. Edelgard emanated power and poise, neither of which could be even remotely compared to Ingrid’s, no matter what Hubert claimed.

“Oh, Ingrid, you’re here as well. Did I interrupt anything?” Edelgard asked. 

Ingrid shook her head. “No, not at all, Princess.”

“Please, call me Edelgard.” Edelgard shook Ingrid’s hand. “Hubert has told me you’ve garnered an interest in the Black Eagle house?”

Ingrid shot Hubert a glare. The bastard only grinned. 

“It’s just a thought at the moment, really,” she told the Imperial princess. 

“Well, I hope you do. I’ve heard from Hubert we may share a distaste for crests. Dorothea has said the same.”

Ingrid would have to berate Dorothea for being such a blabbermouth some other time. “Well, they’re not wrong.”

“It seems we have similar thoughts on the matter. If you ever want to get together for tea, we could talk about it further. You may fit in with the Black Eagles house more than you originally thought.”

Ingrid stared down at the floor. “Um, sure.”

“We must be leaving now, unfortunately, but I’ll see you around, Ingrid,” Edelgard bid farewell. 

Ingrid saw her shoes depart, Hubert following close behind. It wasn’t until she was sure they were gone that she dared look back up. Why did it feel like she was becoming the victim of a recruitment ring? 

She took a sip of the punch Hubert had given her and struggled to swallow it. Hubert needed his taste buds inspected. 

* * *

_Stop bothering with all this. You're not meant to be a knight. Go find a husband…_

Felix had dropped the idea after a good talking to, but his words still set the hair on Ingrid’s arms on end. He hadn’t meant it. He definitely hadn’t meant it. Felix had always been awful at getting his point across without insults; that was just a fact. 

So why did it upset her so much? 

Ingrid didn’t speak to him in class that day, though that was hardly out of the ordinary. He paid her no mind, clearly not understanding that this time was different. He made no attempt to make up with her, not when she refused to make eye contact with him, not when she intentionally ignored him to start a conversation with Ashe, and definitely not when she chose to sit with the Black Eagles for lunch.

Linhardt and Caspar gave each other a confused look, but otherwise didn’t question it when she sat beside them. 

“What brings you here today, Ingrid?” Dorothea asked. She greeted Ingrid with a smile, which warmed Ingrid’s heart enough to reply. 

“Just thought a change of scenery would do me good,” she said. 

Hubert eyed her from where he sat between Petra and Edelgard, but said nothing. 

“Well, you’re always welcome to join us if you wish,” Edelgard said. Then, turning to Hubert she added, “Hubert, it would do you well to eat your vegetables.”

Sure enough, Hubert’s fork lay atop his plate of vegetable pasta salad, untouched. 

“Whoever decided to mix pasta into a salad is the one at fault,” Hubert replied. 

“You must learn to be less picky…” 

“Pass it over,” Ingrid said, stretching her arm over the table to reach for his plate. 

Hubert complied with a smile. Edelgard gave him a sideways look, but didn’t object. 

“No fair, Hubert! How come Ingrid can have your leftovers and I can’t?” Caspar exclaimed. 

“You eat enough as is,” said Hubert.

“And you don’t eat enough!” Dorothea said. “Maybe you’d attract more people if you didn’t look as if a gust of wind could blow you away.” 

Ferdinand nodded. “Yes! A noble must always be at their sharpest. Without the proper nutrition, you cannot possibly be in top shape.”

“What Ferdinand is saying may have truth,” Petra agreed. 

Edelgard sighed. “Now, now, everyone. Hubert can make his own decisions and-”

“They might be right,” Hubert cut her off. 

The table grew silent as everyone’s attention shifted to Hubert, Ingrid’s included. 

“My apologies, Ingrid. Could you pass that back?” Hubert held his hand out. 

Ingrid did as she was asked. She’d miss the salad, but she was far more interested in what would happen next. 

“Are you feeling alright, Hubert?” Linhardt asked. 

“I’m fine,” Hubert snapped. He stabbed his fork into the plate so hard Ingrid feared he’d end up breaking it. Without breaking eye contact with Linhardt, he aggressively shoved the food into his mouth and chewed. 

Ingrid counted to three before he spat it all out. 

Linhardt grinned. “You’re right. You’re fine.”

“I’m done here. Do with the food what you will,” Hubert huffed and left the table. 

“Well, that was weird,” Caspar said. “That’s the longest Hubert’s ever stuck around.”

Ferdinand shuddered. “Caspar is right. This is most uncharacteristic of him.” 

“We have Ingrid to thank for that,” said Edelgard. 

Ingrid blinked. “Me?”

“Well, I have no proof since he refuses to tell me, but ever since you two started talking, he’s been trying to be friendlier. I can’t say he’s very good at it yet, but he’s certainly trying.” 

_He actually took that challenge seriously?_

Ingrid sat there, dumbfounded. She hadn’t expected Hubert to actually follow through with what he’d said at the ball, but it seemed she had underestimated him. It had only been a few days and he’d already done that much? 

She groaned. 

“Eat too much too fast?” Linhardt asked. 

“No, that’s not it,” said Ingrid. “I just remembered there’s something I have to do.” 

* * *

Ingrid finally spotted Hubert under one of the garden pagodas. He sat alone, a tea set spread before him on the table. 

“Hubert! Hubert!” she called out to him in small breaths. She’d already run through half the monastery to find him. 

He furrowed his eyebrow as he took a good look at her. “Is something wrong?” he asked. 

With her current appearance, she couldn’t blame him for assuming the worst. Sections of her braid had come loose during her run, and sweat rolled off her forehead like rain against a windowpane. 

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” Hubert leaned his hand on the table as if to stand, but Ingrid shook her head. 

“No, no, nothing’s wrong,” she managed between heavy breaths. “I just got a bit too excited.”

“Excited? About what?” 

Ingrid reveled in Hubert’s confusion before taking a seat. “I did it!”

“Did what?”

“Today, Sylvain got in trouble with some merchant girl,” Ingrid began. 

“What else is new?”

“That’s what I’m getting at, be patient!” Ingrid gave his hand a light slap. Hubert pulled it away, clearly offended, but shut up. She continued, “He keeps whining that he’s bound to be burned at the stake or something if he doesn’t fix it soon.” 

“And you offered to help him?”

Ingrid couldn’t help the smile that overtook her face. “Actually, I told him he’d have to come up with a solution of his own this time.” 

“Oh?” Hubert’s surprise would have been unknown to Ingrid had his knee not hit the bottom of the table a little too loudly. She pretended not to notice for his sake. “Any backlash?”

“None!” Ingrid clapped her hands together. “He and Felix seemed a little surprised, but otherwise there were no objections. Dimitri even backed me up.”

“So that’s that, then? You’re free of them?”

“Of course not. We have plans for dinner tonight.” 

“There’s no way you can have it both ways.” The hostility in his voice was hard to miss. “They were just… okay with that?”

“We’re _friends._ Of course they were. It’s called a compromise. I’ve just never had the nerve to try,” Ingrid explained. “Why? Is it that hard to believe?” 

Hubert picked up a spoon and began stirring the tea in his cup. “Frankly, yes.” 

Ingrid invited herself to some of the tea by pouring herself a cup. “Really, Hubert. Sometimes I think you just want to make trouble for yourself.”

“I could say the same thing about you.”

“Maybe before, but I’ve got to admit, your advice really paid off this time. It only makes sense, since the advice was originally mine to begin with.” Ingrid took a sip of her tea. Dagda Fruit Blend. She had no objections. 

“I suppose there have been certain improvements, yes. Nowadays, even Bernadetta can ask me things.” Hubert set his spoon back down. “But its benefits are merely temporary. Once we graduate, we’ll all go our separate ways. I don’t see the use in trying any longer, now that we’ve both completed our little challenge.”

“That’s exactly why you have to try now! Make memories you can look back at fondly while you’ve still got the time,” Ingrid insisted. “Besides, you can’t believe you’ll never see _anyone_ again, right? Most of them are Adrestian nobility, after all.” 

Hubert chuckled. “If I do, it’ll be thanks to Lady Edelgard’s charm, not mine.”

“Then make it so that they come back for _you_. Come on, you’re already on the right track.” 

Hubert rolled his eyes and took a sip of his tea. “Sounds troublesome.”

“When has my advice proven worthless?” 

“So you don’t mind if I start with you?”

“Pardon?”

Hubert smirked. “It’s my turn to propose a challenge. I’ll make it so that you feel the need to see me again, to be my friend.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “I can assure you it won’t be easy. You’re truly insufferable.”

“You came running to me to brag about your little victory, and then insisted on helping me,” Hubert pointed out. “Obviously I’m not beyond hope.” 

Ingrid’s cheeks burned. She hoped he’d attribute it to her previous exercise. “I guess you’re not wrong.”

“Seeing as you’ve already served yourself a cup, why not stay for tea?” Hubert reached his hand under the table and pulled out a basket of sweets. “Consider it my first step.”

“That I’ll gladly do.” Ingrid immediately picked up a handful of cookies from the basket and got to work. The run had only strengthened her appetite. 

“Speaking of which, were you planning on having tea by yourself?” she asked.

“No. Lady Edelgard should be on her way by now.”

Ingrid paused. “You’re having tea with Edelgard?”

“Yes.”

“You did this on purpose!”

“You were the one to accept my invitation.”

“I swear, you’re just a slimy recruiter.”

“So what if I am?” Hubert grinned. “What better way to make sure you keep showing up?”

Ingrid couldn’t argue with that logic, but grumbled nonetheless. 

“I’m really picky, you know,” Hubert continued. “You should be honored.”

_Well, you’ve got that right._

“I apologize for my tardiness, Hubert. I was helping Caspar with something.” Edelgard materialized before Ingrid could make an attempt at leaving. 

“Ingrid! I didn’t expect to see you here,” Edelgard added once she’d noticed her. 

_Neither did I._

“Uh, yes. It was a last minute kind of thing.”

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve been chased by demonic beasts.”

Ingrid waited for Hubert to blow her cover, but his lips remained shut tight. Wise choice. 

“Oh, just had an intense training session,” she lied. 

“I’m assuming you’re here to speak then. I’m glad.”

Ingrid kicked Hubert under the table. Hubert coughed and spilled some of the tea in his mouth over himself. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

* * *

Ingrid didn’t know whether she should be relieved or concerned her transition into the Black Eagles house felt so natural. Despite there only being a couple months left in the school year, Professor Byleth hadn’t needed much convincing to let her into their class, especially after having a word with Edelgard. Their lessons definitely took Ingrid out of her comfort zone, something Professor Hanneman had never bothered with, but Ingrid’s abilities were all the better for it. 

She couldn’t boast close relationships with most of her classmates, not like those she’d developed with the Blue Lions; Bernadetta still avoided her whenever she mentioned training, and Ferdinand reminded her of Sylvain in all the worst ways. That said, she’d gotten to know them all rather well, especially Edelgard. 

Ingrid finally understood why Hubert had chosen to follow her. Edelgard’s ideas were unforgiving, calculated, and ideal. Ingrid had never bothered imagining a world without crests, but Edelgard had painted such a clear picture in her head. She had even caught herself fantasizing about living in Edelgard’s Adrestia. She knew that was impossible; her ties to the Faerghus nobility ran too deep to leave it all behind, but it was a nice thought nevertheless. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying your time in the Black Eagles house,” Mercedes said as she poured tea into Ingrid’s cup.

“You’re not mad I left?” 

“Why would we be?” Annette threw a cookie into her mouth. “It’s not like much has changed. We all still live in the same monastery, after all!”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Ingrid sipped at her tea and beamed. She would never get sick of Mercedes’ tea. 

“Don’t worry about it, really,” Ashe reassured. “We’ve had you for long enough.” 

The monastery clocks chimed as a new hour began. 

“Is it three already?” Ingrid asked. “I’m supposed to meet Hubert at the training grounds.”

“You better get going then,” Annette said. “Though, I still find it weird you actually get along with that guy. He seems so scary!”

“He’s not so bad,” Ingrid said. Though she’d been reluctant to admit it, she had learned to appreciate Hubert’s company. He shared her work ethic for one, which lent nicely to her strict training schedule. He was the first to back her up when reprimanding Linhardt for taking naps during class, but the last to disregard her ideas. The insults had waned over the weeks, and the food he kept sneaking her more than made up for the light teasing he kept dishing out. 

“I’ll make sure to let you know when we have tea again,” Mercedes said before Ingrid left and headed for the training grounds. 

“It’s odd of you to be late,” Hubert said once she arrived. He was already swinging his lance around. Though his specialty would always be magic, she had convinced him to try wielding a physical weapon, just in case it ever came in handy. 

Ingrid picked up the nearest lance. “Sorry, I was having tea with some friends.”

“No matter. Should we get started then?” 

Ingrid lunged at him with all her strength. Hubert’s form still needed work. His jabs were somewhat uncoordinated, and he kept being pushed back whenever Ingrid landed a hit. That didn’t stop him from trying, though, and even after she had beat him a dozen times over, he rarely complained. 

“You’re the quietest sparring partner I’ve ever had,” she said once their time was up. 

“Trust me, you’ll prefer it that way.” Hubert took a long drink of water from his canteen. “I’ve wanted to curse you out for the last two hours.”

“What a surprising show of restraint.” 

“You could show some as well. My arms will be sore for days.” 

Ingrid laughed. “Maybe once you’ve gotten any better.”

“Well, I guess I should have known this would happen.” Hubert ran a hand through his hair, showing off his second eye for the briefest of moments. “I’ve known you were skilled since the Battle of the Eagle and Lion.”

“We ended up losing though,” Ingrid recalled. The Black Eagles had come out victorious all those months ago. 

“Maybe so, but that didn’t stop you from striking me down.”

“I did?” Ingrid hardly remembered anything from that battle. She’d been knocked down from her pegasus at some point, then officially eliminated by Claude, but the other details had long since blurred together. 

“You definitely did,” said Hubert. “I clearly remember you throwing a javelin when I least expected it.”

“My apologies.” 

“What for? It was a mock battle, what else were you supposed to do?”

Ingrid choked down her embarrassment. “I suppose you’re right.” 

“By the way,” Hubert changed the subject, “do you want to go into town tomorrow?”

“Going shopping?”

“More or less. You see, Dorothea and Petra invited me.”

“And you said yes?” Dorothea and Hubert, though not openly hostile to one another, certainly rubbed each other the wrong way often. Dorothea inviting Hubert wasn’t hard to believe; Hubert accepting said invitation, on the other hand… 

“It’s not like I actually want to,” Hubert quickly assured her. “But I figured this would be good in terms of _class bonding_ or some other such nonsense. Creating some of those memories you insisted on?”

“My, my. You really _are_ trying!” Ingrid teased. 

Hubert’s cheeks flared red. “Well, if you can still be on such friendly terms with people outside your house, I figured I could at least get along with the people in mine.” 

Ingrid smiled. “Well, I can definitely tag along.” 

“Good. Meet up at the gates at ten?”

“Deal.”

* * *

Hubert’s face contorted into something foreign for the fourth time that day as Dorothea clipped a broach to his hair. It was the brightest thing Ingrid had ever seen him wear, his usual black attire contrasting sharply with the silver broach. 

“Petra, don’t you think this suits him?” Dorothea asked, admiring her work. “It keeps his hair out of his eyes so you can actually see his face!”

Petra nodded enthusiastically. “It is suiting him very well!” Whether she legitimately agreed with Dorothea or just wanted to tease Hubert was unclear.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I can’t wear this!” Hubert ripped it out of his hair and slapped it into Dorothea’s palm. “Return that at once!”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Hubie!” 

Ingrid laughed as the two began an argument. The shopkeeper’s eyes didn’t dare look away. With the scene they were causing, Ingrid couldn’t blame him. 

“Don’t think you’ve gotten away so easily,” Hubert hissed. He dipped his hand into the nearest assortment of lipsticks and tossed one at Dorothea. “Don’t you think this brings out Ingrid’s eyes?” 

“Ew, absolutely not!” Dorothea threw the lipstick back. 

Hubert frowned. His eyebrows crinkled in ways Ingrid hadn’t thought possible. It was kind of cute. 

Dorothea walked over to the bin and scavenged around for a bit before pulling another lipstick out. “ _This_ one, however, would look great!”

Ingrid’s face deflated the same moment Hubert’s unwrinkled. 

“Say, Hubert, why don’t we make a stop for ice cream while Dorothea and Petra finish here?” Ingrid suggested. The glint in Dorothea’s eyes told her she had a limited amount of time to pull this off. 

Hubert hesitated a moment as if to judge whether escaping with her was worth missing out on the torture that would soon ensue. 

“What about this, Hubert?” Petra held up a headband lined with red rhinestones. 

Hubert grimaced. “Ice cream sounds great.”

“Aw, but we’ve just gotten started!” Dorothea objected. 

“We’ll be back!” Ingrid reassured, pulling Hubert by the arm to the nearest food square.

“This was an awful idea,” Hubert said. He threw himself onto the nearest bench and readjusted his hair. 

“Dorothea invited you, you should have been prepared for this,” Ingrid replied. “What flavor do you want?”

“Whatever you like best.”

“Suit yourself.”

As she took her place in line, Ingrid counted out the coins in her palm. She’d been given a small allowance when she’d left for the academy by her parents. All she’d ever used it for was the occasional necessity, but given the limited time she had left at the Academy, she would be more than willing to splurge on a good treat. Besides, if Hubert would eat it, the price posed no problem at all. 

Once Ingrid returned with the ice cream, she asked, “Do you really think this was so bad?” 

Hubert nodded. “I should’ve just let you suffer in silence. I could be doing any number of things right now if I had.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Hubert sighed. “No, I don’t.” He accepted the ice cream from Ingrid. 

“I really must thank you for that,” Ingrid continued. “You’ve helped me more than I’ve given you credit for, though you certainly could’ve been nicer about it at times.” 

“Guilty as charged.” 

Ingrid continued, “I won’t give up on my friendships, but I’ve been too complacent in them. You showed me how to put my foot down and set my limits, how to recognize when it’s time to demand more of others. It’s… refreshing.” 

“I think you mistook my intentions, but I’ll accept the thanks anyway.”

“At least let me thank you for introducing me to Edelgard. You were right about her; I’d love to live in the world she creates one day.”

Hubert smiled just enough for the edges of his mouth to reach his cheeks. She didn’t see it often; his mischievous grins and condescending smirks fit all too well with his threatening aura. Still, she liked seeing it whenever it did pop up. Like an item on a secret menu, his smile felt like a special treat reserved for her. 

“In that case, I suppose my own thanks is overdue. You’ve given me some valuable advice,” he told her. 

“You already thanked me for helping you with that Edelgard situation,” Ingrid pointed out. “There’s no need to do it twice.” 

“I’m not talking about that.” Hubert’s ice cream began to melt in his hand. He made no move to clean it. “Too many times I have thrown potential friendships out the window over trivial matters. I’ve only ever focused my efforts on Lady Edelgard, but now that I’ve dedicated some to others, I find myself surrounded by people I never thought would care for me. I may not appreciate it, but Dorothea would have never invited me a month ago.”

“Well, you’re probably right about that.” Ingrid raised her own ice cream cone to the air. “With that out of the way, why don’t we dig in?”

“Actually, about that…” Hubert handed back his ice cream to her. “I’m not fond of sweets either.” 

“But you said you liked ice cream!” 

Hubert laughed, his hands clasped to his knees. His whole chest shook as he laughed. If she were to describe the scene to anyone else, they might have called her delusional. 

“Next time, could you at least let me know beforehand?” she asked. 

Hubert smiled. “But then you would have only one.”

“You’ve got a point.” Ingrid licked at both ice creams, making sure she was faster at eating them than they were at melting. 

“Tell you what, the next meal is on me,” said Hubert. 

“Deal.”

“Ingrid! Hubie!” Dorothea’s voice rang out in the square. “I really think these watches would suit you!” 

“Are you in the market for a new watch?” Ingrid asked. 

“No.”

“Me neither. What do you say we head back to the monastery before she finds us?”

“Ingrid Brandl Galatea ditching a friendly gathering? My, I really have influenced you, haven’t I?” 

Ingrid blushed. “Is that a yes?”

“Hubie, what about a pet crow? It would make you more intimidating, don’t you think?” Dorothea’s voice sounded closer than before. 

“Yes, certainly!” Petra agreed. 

Hubert shuddered and took Ingrid’s hand as he dragged her away in the opposite direction. “Absolutely. Let’s get out of here.” 

* * *

The walk back to their respective rooms had been a nice one. Devoid of Dorothea’s chatter and relentless flirting, Ingrid and Hubert were allowed to enjoy each other’s company in silence. A month ago, she would have loathed the idea, but now it felt as natural as being with any of her old housemates. 

“Two idiots ahead,” Hubert announced as they rounded the market corner and reached the pond area. 

Felix and Sylvain sat by the water’s edge, dipping their feet in. They seemed to be in another one of their arguments, with Sylvain laughing off Felix’s insults and warnings. 

“Don’t be rude!” Ingrid elbowed him lightly. 

Felix must have heard her, because he called out, “Ingrid!” 

Hubert grumbled something under his breath, but followed when Ingrid moved closer to the pair. 

“Yes?” 

“Could you please explain to Sylvain why it’s a bad idea to break into the sauna tonight?” Felix splashed water into Sylvain’s face. 

“Well, if you’re going to blabber to everyone you see, it is!” Sylvain slapped Felix’s hand. 

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course it’s a bad idea.”

“But don’t you think it’d be cool if I could sneak a girl in there? Then we could-” 

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Ingrid burst. Hubert tensed beside her. 

Sylvain pouted. “Oh, c’mon, it can’t be _that_ bad.”

“Well, I won’t be around to clean up your mess if things go wrong,” Ingrid finished. 

Hubert took a step forward. “I’ll gladly clean _you_ up if you create any inconveniences.”

Felix assessed Hubert behind cold, narrowed eyes. He glanced at the pond, then back, then once more. She could tell he was wondering whether he’d win if he started a fight. Ingrid really hoped he wouldn’t. 

Ultimately, Felix nodded. “Please do.” 

“Fine, fine, I won’t do it,” Sylvain conceded.

“Good.” Hubert stepped back. 

Felix turned his attention back to the pond. “Well, sorry for interrupting your little date.”

Ingrid instinctively pressed the heel of her boot into Felix’s back, pushing him into the pond in the process. All she could hear was Sylvain’s laughter and Felix’s angry blabbering as she and Hubert retreated to the dorms.

“I apologize for their behavior,” she told Hubert as they climbed the staircase. She could feel the heat building up in her face, so she hoped the dim lighting would better help to hide it. 

“No need,” said Hubert. “Maybe they aren’t as bad as you led me to believe.” 

“Just how bad did you think they were?”

“Scum of the earth.”

“Whatever gave you that impression?” 

“Did you ever take a good look at yourself after an argument?”

“Point taken.” 

The pair continued up the dorm steps and into the hallway. As Ingrid’s room was closer, they stopped there first. 

“Say, about what you told me earlier…” Hubert said. “You say you really do agree with what Edelgard stands for?”

“I do.”

“Enough to follow her?”

Ingrid raised an eyebrow. “Follow her? Follow her where?”

“Nevermind.” Hubert shook his head. “I only suggest you decide for yourself where your true loyalties lie.”

“If you talk so cryptically with everyone, it’s no wonder why so many people find you scary,” Ingrid teased. “Don’t you think it’s time to give up on that?”

Hubert smiled. “Maybe one day.”

“Goodnight, Hubert. See you tomorrow.” 

“Goodnight, Ingrid.”

* * *

Ingrid didn’t recognize the man who had just barged into the Holy Tomb, but his armor implied high status within the Imperial army. Her grip on her lance tightened as he flashed a wicked grin. This wasn’t how she had thought the evening would go. 

“Don’t move, any of you!” he warned. “If you move, your lives will be forfeit! Thank you ever so much for guiding us this far. The Imperial army shall now take possession of everything in the Holy Tomb!”

“What’s the imperial army doing here?” Dorothea asked. Her hand immediately reached for Petra’s. 

“Wait! Does he work for the Flame Emperor?” Ferdinand asked. 

Linhardt didn’t need further confirmation to arrive at the same conclusion. “So the Flame Emperor is connected to the Empire… I never thought that possible.”

“Edelgard, did you know about this?” Bernadetta hid behind Ingrid. It may very well have been the first time she’d willingly gone anywhere near her. 

Edelgard didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes. In fact, I gave the order. I am the Flame Emperor.” 

Ingrid’s heart dropped. _Edelgard, the Flame Emperor?_ She shot a glance at Hubert, praying to the goddess she’d find him just as dumbfounded as the rest of them. 

Hubert, however, averted her gaze. “I guess that's the end of play-at-school, Lady Edelgard... I mean Your Majesty.”

Ingrid grit her teeth. Of course he’d known. He wouldn’t even bother pretending. Had this been what he’d warned her of in the hallway? 

The Imperial commander spoke once more. “Get to work, everyone! The Crest Stones belong to us now, and take those filthy bones too!”

Lady Rhea’s voice boomed in the cavernous room. “Insolence! You will atone for the sin of trampling on this holy resting place! Professor. Destroy these villainous traitors who dare dishonor our creator!”

“Wait! What’s the meaning of this, Edelgard?” Caspar swung his axe in front of him, warning the Imperial soldiers away. 

“You… made use of us? Why?” Petra squeezed Dorothea’s hand. 

“I'm sorry, my teacher. I cut this path, and now I must follow it,” Edelgard addressed the Professor. “My friends... I ask that all of you stay back! It is not my intention to fight you. By order of the Adrestian emperor, Edelgard von Hresvelg… I command you to collect the Crest Stones! If anyone attempts to stop us...kill them.”

“I will not allow such violence from the Empire! Strike down the rebels and protect the Holy Tomb!” Rhea shouted at the students. 

“The Crest Stones are in the caskets! Open every last one of them!” the Imperial Commander instructed. 

Not a second later, the Imperial troops advanced, avoiding Ingrid and her classmates as they headed straight for the Crest Stone vaults. 

Rhea retaliated with a blast of her own magic. “The Holy Tomb must not be desecrated! Protect as many of the Crest Stones as you can!”

Ingrid didn’t need to be told twice. She jumped into action alongside Caspar and Ferdinand, maneuvering her lance with precision. She hadn’t brought her pegasus that day, partially because the animal wouldn’t have done well underground, and partially because she hadn’t expected a fight to break out. She appreciated the decision, if only because it kept her grounded in the same place. As long as she kept busy defending the vaults, there would be no time to think. 

“Push forward!” the Professor ordered. They clearly lacked their usual enthusiasm, but Ingrid heeded their instructions nevertheless. In all honesty, she would have liked to bury herself in a corner and wake up from this bad dream, but an order was an order. 

Gradually, Ingrid and her housemates broke through the Imperial ranks. What the Black Eagles lacked in numbers they made up in raw power, skill, and strategy. With both the archbishop and the Professor leading the charge, it was only a matter of time before they reached Edelgard and Hubert atop the dual staircase. All Ingrid could hope for as she climbed the stepswas for Hubert to avoid her as adamantly as she did him. 

“You have disappointed me, Edelgard.” Rhea’s eyes bore into Edelgard’s skull. “To think that a descendant of House Hresvelg would dare betray the holy church…”

Edelgard paid Rhea no mind. “So it is my teacher who stands in my way. I always knew it would come to this…”

Rhea did not take to this lightly. “Professor. Kill Edelgard at once. She is a danger to all of Fódlan. Such a rebellious heart cannot be allowed to keep beating.”

The Professor readied their blade. Edelgard raised her axe to block the blow, but the blade never fell. Instead, the Professor turned the blame on the archbishop, their back to Edelgard. 

“Has the Professor gone insane?” she asked no one in particular. Hadn’t they seen firsthand what happened to those who openly defied the church?

Ingrid stepped aside as the archbishop’s skin began to glow beside her. 

“You… How dare you!” she bellowed. 

Edelgard seemingly hadn’t anticipated it either. “My teacher… I… Thank you. But are you certain that- No. Now isn’t the time for discussion.”

“Words cannot properly express my gratitude, Professor,” said Hubert. 

Rhea’s eyes turned to slits, quite literally. “So, this is the choice you have made. You are just another failure. Your presence soils the Holy Tomb and disgraces my brethren. I will not allow one who would lend our enemies strength to wield the power of the goddess Sothis. I have passed judgement, and now I shall rip your chest open and take back your heart myself!”

Her flesh ripped apart before Ingrid’s eyes, bright white scales growing to replace her missing skin. Ingrid felt her mouth move, but couldn’t hear herself above the roaring. Horns sprouted from Rhea’s head and wings spread from her back, which Linhardt and Lysithea only barely dodged. By the time the blinding light faded, Rhea had fully transformed into a dragon. 

Hubert remained unfazed. “Heh. That must be the Immaculate One...”

Edelgard shared his calm reaction. “Yes. The monsters that have controlled Fodlan in secret for far too long… Rhea is their leader.”

“There is no time to waste. Your Majesty. Professor. We must escape while we can,” Hubert insisted. 

The three of them turned tail, eager to put some distance between themselves and the raging dragon. A portal opened up before them, sucking up Edelgard and the Professor in the process. Where had Hubert learned to do that? 

“Wait up, I’m coming with you!” Caspar rushed forward. 

“Wait, Caspar!” Linhardt rushed after him, closely followed by Ferdinand. 

“Oh, I guess I’ll go too!” Bernadetta scrambled away.

“Where are you two going?” Ingrid asked, grabbing a hold of Dorothea’s sleeve before she and Petra could get far. 

“With Edie, of course!” she explained, tugging away her arm. “I don’t know why she did this, but if the Professor can trust her, so can I.” 

“I am wanting Edelgard as an ally,” Petra agreed. Hand in hand, they both dashed away.

Ingrid turned to Lysithea, expecting her, at least, to stay behind. The girl brushed past her with ease, though, leaving a trail of rubble in her wake for good measure. Ingrid merely stood there, clutching her lance. 

As her classmates rushed through the portal one by one, Ingrid’s legs refused to budge. Hubert stood by his portal, staring straight at her. She couldn’t hear him from so far away, but his mouth shaped her name. 

Ingrid took a step back. “I can’t…” she whispered to herself. 

Without warning, Rhea charged forward, her mouth glowing hot. 

Hubert kept his ground, unblinking, arm outstretched. Ingrid wanted to take it. She wanted to drive her lance through Rhea’s chest and make her stop. She wanted to slap Hubert for keeping her in the dark. She wanted to defend her king. So instead she did nothing. 

Seconds before Rhea could plunge her claws into Hubert, he stepped aside and closed the portal. In a flash of green light, he’d warped away. 

Rhea clawed at the air in anguish, roaring relentlessly as she began shrinking. 

“Archbishop…” Ingrid rushed over to Rhea and laid a trembling hand on her shoulder. 

The archbishop didn’t respond, only continued glowing as her scales fell and shattered in midair.

Ingrid lowered her eyes to the ground, hoping that doing so could distract her from the heaviness in her heart. This had been the right choice. Joining the Black Eagles had never meant siding with the Empire. When the school year ended, she’d return to Faerghus with her past housemates and close that chapter of her life. She’d accepted that reality so long ago, and yet… 

A speck of white on the dark floor caught her eye. Only a few feet from where Hubert had warped away laid a small piece of paper. Making sure Rhea took no notice, Ingrid picked it up and unfolded it. It seemed to her to be a random assortment of lines and squiggles. Nevertheless, she stuck it in her pocket. 

“You have done well to stay,” Rhea finally spoke, her tone once again smooth and refined. She sat on the tomb floor, hands folded in her lap. The archbishop had returned to her typical state save for a few tussled strands of hair. 

Ingrid didn’t reply. Her indecision hardly seemed like something worth congratulating. 

“We must let Seteth and the others know,” Rhea continued. 

Ingrid nodded and followed her out of the Holy Tomb. The Black Eagles table would be empty at dinner tonight. 

* * *

Ingrid laid in bed, the sheet of paper held over her head. She’d tried to make sense of it for days now, but all she could see were lines. Maybe it had been a bored doodle that had fallen out of Hubert’s pocket. Maybe she assumed too much by thinking it was meant for her, or that it had even come from him in the first place. It could have easily been dropped by anyone, especially during the fighting. 

A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts. She sighed and crumpled the note into her pocket before opening the door. Felix and Sylvain stood before her. 

“You need to talk to the Boar,” Felix stated, arms crossed. “I know you said you’d stop this kind of stuff, but maybe you can get through to him.”

Ingrid was well aware of the stupor Dimitri had fallen in since news of Edelgard’s true identity had reached the other students. He hardly spoke, and when he did, it was never anything pleasant. She’d found herself avoiding him and his stony glare under the excuse he probably needed time to process Edelgard’s betrayal on his own. However, by the sound of things, it had all been mere wishful thinking. 

“Is it really that bad?” she asked. 

Sylvain shook his head low. “Try for yourself. I even tried flirting with him. He nearly broke my neck over it.”

“And you think I can do better?” 

Felix tapped his foot against the floor. “I don’t know! But you have the most experience with this kind of thing, right?”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

Sylvain smiled sheepishly. “Yeah…”

“Will you give it a try, though?” Felix said.

Ingrid nodded. She’d kept her distance long enough. Besides, if war really broke out, she’d need him in top shape. “Fine, I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Sylvain pulled her into a hug. “Thanks, Ingrid! You’re the best.”

As idiotic as her friend was, Ingrid wasn’t beyond admitting she had missed this. She hugged him back for a little while before stepping back. “Wish me luck.”

Felix huffed. “You’ll certainly need it.”

* * *

Ingrid found Dimitri in the knight’s hall. Felix had been right to take drastic measures; the prince barely looked alive, standing in the middle of the room with his eyes to the floor. Dedue waited diligently by his side, but even he observed Dimitri with clear concern.

“Your Highness, I understand you’re upset, but if I may have a word with you…” Ingrid approached her old friend. 

Dimitri said nothing. He didn’t even object to her use of his title. Before, he would have insisted she refer to him by name. His eyes met hers, yet Ingrid couldn’t tell whether he could actually see her. Beside him, Dedue shook his head as if to warn her of the futility of her words. 

Ingrid ignored Dedue’s sentiment. “I heard from Felix and Sylvain you’ve been having some trouble.”

Dimitri glared at her. “I’m not.”

“Right…” Ingrid stepped back to think. It only took a few seconds for Dimitri to return to his previous state.

Ingrid tried again. “As prince of Faerghus, I imagine there must be certain pressures on you, so I wanted to see if there’s any way I could help you moving forward. After all, I-”

“I’ll have that girl’s head. Just you wait…” 

Ingrid frowned. “You mean Edelgard, don’t you?”

“It’s possible she was involved in the Tragedy of Duscur,” interrupted Dedue. “It’s reasonable of His Highness to feel this way if that is truly the case.”

Somehow, Ingrid couldn’t imagine Edelgard to have done such a thing. Though her methods could certainly be defined as drastic, they weren’t malicious. “But, Your Highness…” 

“I will kill Edelgard,” said Dimitri. “That is all I have planned.”

Ingrid hated how his words angered her. Edelgard had betrayed them all, so why should she care what plans Dimitri had for her? His word was all she needed. 

In an attempt to convince even herself, she continued, “We’ll be returning to Fhirdiad, then? To gather troops and supplies and such, I mean. If we’re really going to war with Edelgard, then we’ll need a lot more than what is available at the monastery.”

“I will strike her down when she reaches Garreg Mach.”

“But, Your Highness…” 

“You disagree?”

“I-”

  
“So be it.” Dimitri turned away. “When you returned from the Holy Tomb, I though you’d resisted her brainwashing. Now I see even you have become her lapdog. Just like that disgrace who’s always hovering over her.” 

“Hubert is no lapdog, and neither am I!” the words were out of her mouth before Ingrid could help herself. 

A lance flashed in her face as Dimitri swung at her chest. Dedue’s quick intervention was all that prevented him from pressing it into her breast. 

“Go,” Dedue commanded, his arms clasped firmly around his liege’s. 

Ingrid ran out without a second to waste. Her heart beat loudly as tears blurred her vision. The being in the knight’s hall was no king. Not hers, anyway. 

_How can I fight alongside that?_

Ingrid had insisted on becoming a knight of Faerghus for years. She’d been prepared to leave her noble title behind, possibly leave her family in financial ruin for that sake alone. How could she do so now that the lord she had intended on serving couldn’t see farther than his own thirst for revenge? Besides, the thought of killing Edelgard nauseated her. It was _her_ world Ingrid wished to live in, not Dimitri’s.

All she could do now was mull over Hubert’s words. He had wanted her to come with him, and she had failed him. There was no telling where the Black Eagles were anymore, and when she saw them next, she’d be on the wrong side of the war. 

Ingrid ran out of breath once she reached the marketplace. She took a breather on the steps, watching as the local merchants packed up their things. The impending war would be no good for business once it reached their doorstep. 

She reached into her pocket for the note once more. It couldn’t have been a mere coincidence it was left behind. Hubert was smarter than that. Too smart, yet too annoying to write anything in words she could understand. 

Frustrated, she leaned her chin against her arms and watched as the sun began to set behind the monastery gates. In a week, the Imperial army would be banging on them, demanding the church step down. The gates' stark outline felt familiar to her somehow, but that was no surprise; she had seen them daily for almost a year now.

She glanced back down at the note. The rough lines made no more sense to her now than they had that morning or the the day before or the day before that, but they were all she had left. Funnily enough, if she stared long enough, she could interpret the lines as bad drawings, just like when she’d imagine shapes in the clouds as a child. 

_Wait._

If she focused on just the outline, the lines could be mistaken for something else. It hit her like a wyvern egg. 

She looked down at the paper, then back at the gates. If she adjusted the angle and lined them up… She gasped. 

It was a map. He’d left her a map. 

* * *

The map was no masterpiece. It had been scribbled quickly and with Hubert’s poor handwriting (though he insisted it was perfectly legible). Still, she could make out the gates and the surrounding cliffside around Garreg Mach. If she followed it, she’d find him; of that much she was sure. 

She closed the door to her room with great care, careful to keep the noise to a minimum. With her bag slung over her shoulder and a stack of letters in one hand, she walked to the end of the hall. She couldn’t leave without explaining herself. 

She slid the first letter under Felix’s door. After the ordeal earlier, she skipped Dimitri’s. It wasn’t as if he’d appreciate a letter from her anyway. As she crouched to deliver Sylvain’s letter, she heard a door creak open. 

“Can’t you at least say goodbye yourself?” Felix whispered behind her. 

Ingrid turned around with dread. Her stomach clenched as she faced him. “You were awake?”

Felix leaned on his doorframe. “Is it that surprising?” 

“No, I guess not.” Ingrid pursed her lips. “You’re not mad?”

Felix chuckled. “I’m seething. But I can’t blame you. I’m the one who told you not to blindly obey, right? I can’t punish you for finally coming to your own decision.” 

Ingrid smiled. “I’m sorry.”

Felix shrugged. “Under different circumstances I might have gone with you, but I’ve decided to stay and keep the Boar in line. Someone has to, now that you’re leaving.” 

“I appreciate it.” Ingrid rubbed at her eyes. She hadn’t expected to cry until after she’d left. 

“Stay safe, Ingrid. I hope we don’t meet on the battlefield.” Felix rubbed her head once, then returned to his room. 

Ingrid made her way down the stairs before Felix changed his mind and chased her down with his sword. 

One by one, she left letters behind for all of her former housemates. To Mercedes, for providing her with endless encouragement and warm cups of tea. To Annette, for always making her smile, even if her makeup hobby could get annoying. To Ashe, for being her book buddy and insisting she pursue knighthood. Even to Dedue, for taking care of Dimitri, for helping her out, and to apologize for the way she had treated him before. 

After that, it was a simple matter of evading the guards and slipping through an underused entrance to slip into the forest. Whether or not she managed to find Hubert, she wouldn’t be back. 

* * *

It took her a few wrong turns and a couple days to figure it out, but when an Imperial soldier aimed his bow at her, she figured she’d found the right place. 

“Who are you, and what business do you have here?”

Ingrid didn’t know what to say to ensure she didn’t get an arrow to the head. Claiming to be a friend of Edelgard’s may have been true, but who knew what rumors had been spread about her in her absence? For all she knew, she’d been branded a traitor. 

Instead, she held up her map. “I- I was led here by this. I believe Hubert left it for me.”

The soldier narrowed his eyes and held out his hand for the map. Ingrid handed it over. 

“Lord Vestra, you say?” he asked, turning the thing over in his hand. 

Ingrid nodded. “I came to join forces with him.”

The soldier stuck the map in his boot. “How do I know you’re not a spy?”

Ingrid gulped. “I… I don’t really know.” 

“Ingrid?” Ferdinand appeared behind the soldier. 

“You know her?” he asked. 

Ingrid had never gotten along the best with Ferdinand, but she hoped he regarded her highly enough to spare her life. Denying their familiarity now would surely result in the end of the line for her. 

Fortunately, Ferdinand nodded. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m joining the Adrestian Empire,” she said. 

Ingrid held her breath as Ferdinand hesitated. “I’ll let Hubert be the judge of that,” he eventually decided. 

Unceremoniously, the soldier shoved her between himself and Ferdinand. He took her bag and attached it to his horse’s saddle, which trailed behind the three of them. They all weaved through the thick woods in silence, only ever broken when the soldier instructed her on where to step so as not to leave footprints. Ingrid did as she was told, though her legs trembled the entire way. She feared she’d collapse of nerves before they even arrived, but they reached the secret underground bunker not too long afterwards.

Inside, she caught sight of some of the other Black Eagles along with an impressive amount of soldiers. Despite the dreary decor (if it could be called that), they all seemed in high spirits, talking animatedly amongst each other. In one corner, she noticed Lysithea and Petra spread on the floor, reading. She ached to greet them, but both Ferdinand and the soldier didn’t accept detours. 

They led her further into the bunker and down a steep staircase. With only a few lit torches along the way, Ingrid held onto their shoulders so as not to trip. When they reached the bottom, they led her straight into a cell. Judging by the lack of rust, they were new. 

“Wait here,” the soldier instructed her before locking the door behind him, Ferdinand in tow. 

Ingrid sighed and leaned against the wall, knees pressed to her chest. To be insulted by her treatment would have been unreasonable given the circumstances of her arrival, but she feared one wrong move could land her in the cell on a more permanent basis. All she could do was hope Hubert believed her. He’d left her a map, after all. 

She almost jumped out of her skin as the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the cell. Despite her reassurances to herself, there was no telling what Hubert would do. He’d been feared at the academy for a reason, and though he’d certainly mellowed out with her, how much of it had been an act to conceal the Empire’s intentions? 

Hubert walked in, hands behind his back. He had ditched his school uniform, instead wearing a collared shirt and black pants. She hadn’t been able to tell under the baggy pants and zipped coat, but her training lessons had certainly proved fruitful. 

“You came,” he stated. 

Ingrid forced herself to look him in the eye. They betrayed nothing of his emotions, a trick he must have perfected over the years. 

“I did,” she replied. 

“I was worried you wouldn’t comprehend the note, but I clearly shouldn't have been.”

“You could’ve just written it out.”

“And alert anyone else had they found the note instead?”

“Fair point.” Ingrid drew her knees closer. “But, didn’t you worry I might have told someone else about this place once I deciphered it?” 

Hubert coughed. He scratched at the back of his neck and looked away for a moment. Ingrid felt herself relax at the sight. Hubert could play his role well, but even he could break character every now and again. 

“Well, I was sure you wouldn’t,” he muttered. 

“Why?” 

“Perhaps because you’re loyal to a fault. It would be uncharacteristic of you to betray someone you consider a friend.” 

“Even if that means I betray the rest?” Regardless of all the love she had poured into her letters, she had still betrayed her friends. What they thought of her now was beyond her control. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Hubert changed the subject. “You’re here now, right?”

Ingrid nodded and stood. She’d face him head on, just like old times. 

“That said, I can’t just let you join that easily,” Hubert continued. 

Ingrid gave a nervous chuckle. “I figured as much.”

“I need to know you are completely committed to Lady Edelgard’s cause.”

“I am.” Ingrid never meant any other words more. 

Hubert scoffed. “That’s not going to cut it.”

Ingrid winced. “Huh?”

“I want you to tell me what you believe in. Why you came here. In your own words.” 

“ _This_ is what I believe in.” Ingrid stomped her foot on the stone floor so hard the sound bounced off the walls. “The crest system needs to be dismantled, and Edelgard will see to that. I know that now. In a world she creates, I and so many others will finally be free to pursue our true passions and look forward to the future, even if blood must be shed first.”

“So that’s why you came?” Hubert’s face fell slightly. Was he _disappointed?_

Ingrid nodded. “For the most part, yes.”

“There was something else?” 

“Well...” Ingrid smiled. “Let’s just say I couldn’t, in good faith, let you believe you’d failed your challenge.”

“At the cost of your homeland? You do realize you won’t be allowed to return to Faerghus after this.” Hubert walked over to her and lowered his face directly before hers. His breath tickled her nose, but she resisted the urge to crinkle it. “You’re willing to turn your back on your lord?”

Ingrid took a deep breath. “Yes.” 

“And what of your old friends?” Hubert asked. “Can you really fight them if need be? We don’t take in liabilities.” 

Had anyone else asked her the same question, Ingrid probably would have lied. Out of anyone, however, she felt Hubert would understand. 

“I love my friends dearly, I admit. But I realize now that our paths are no longer the same. I will never regret my time with them, but I’ve decided to leave them behind, for as long as is necessary.” 

Hubert stepped away. His voice was barely a whisper as he asked, “Will you be okay?” 

“Maybe not now, but I will be,” Ingrid reassured. “It’s not like I’ve rid myself of _everyone_. I’ve still got you, don’t I?” 

Hubert took her hand and rubbed his thumb around her knuckles. “You certainly do.” 

“Any more questions left?” Ingrid asked. 

“No.” Hubert shook his head. “Just know that if you ever betray her majesty, I will not forgive you, no matter how fond of you I have become.”

“I would expect no less. Thank you, Hubert.” 

She made to let go, but Hubert held tight.

“It may not be very good, but do you fancy a meal together?” he asked. “I told you the next one would be on me.”

Ingrid laughed. “You just want me to eat your leftovers.”

Hubert gently tugged at her arm and looped it around his own as he led them out of the cell. “Actually, tonight is stew.” 

“You like stew?” She’d have to keep that in mind.

“Well, as long as it’s not Daphnel.” 

“I’m a Daphnel, you know. Vaguely, but still.”

“I’m merely referring to the stew,” Hubert insisted. “When it comes to the real thing, I’m not nearly as picky.”


End file.
